


Give Me A Sign

by sleepydanceur



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydanceur/pseuds/sleepydanceur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s always had a soft spot for Jongin, his insides turning to molten with every passing day, the fondness growing irrevocably stronger; something Chanyeol likes to exploit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me A Sign

**Author's Note:**

> For Yesi because we were having early Kaisoo Halloween feels. Hope you like it! ;u;  
> [Kyungsoo's shirt looks something like [this ](http://www.retroscopefashions.com/images/mens/b00016.jpg)except with ribbons in the front too]

“It’s fine hyung, don’t worry, I can manage,” Jongin insists.

“My hands are steadier than yours,” Kyungsoo points out, eyeing himself in the mirror and adding the finishing touches to his perfectly styled up hair. 

“They're not _that_ shaky” Jongin retorts, biting his lip in concentration as he tries to draw a trail of blood down the side of his face with red face paint. 

Kyungsoo turns to him with a skeptically raised eyebrow, “Jongin, it looks like there’s a slug crawling down your face.”

He plucks the face paint out of Jongin’s hands, ignoring his indignant squawk. Pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed, he tilts his face up with two fingers under his chin to get better access. 

He cups Jongin’s face gently to keep it steady, feeling the soft warmth of his cheek against his palm and the crest of Jongin’s cheekbone beneath his thumb. He’s made a right mess of crimson on the side of his head, his shaky hand smudging any lines he’d attempted. Kyungsoo does his best to touch it up and fix it with the face paint and his fingers, drawing perfect droplets of blood on his head, down his cheeks, along his jaw and chin. 

Jongin sits in silence, compliantly letting him tilt his head this way and that, leaning into his palm almost drowsily though his eyes never leave his face.

Dragging the tip of his thumb just below the jut of Jongin’s lower lip, marking a final crimson line, Kyungsoo wrenches his hands away from Jongin’s warm skin.

“All done.”

“You haven’t laced up your shirt,” Jongin murmurs, indicating at his front. He’s wearing a particularly intricate lacy shirt with flaps that tie up together in the middle with black, velvety ribbons. Kyungsoo makes a noise, reaching down to do it up but Jongin quickly pushes his hands away and gets to his feet, stepping right in his space.

“Let me,” he offers, “your hands are all messy, you’ll stain it.”

Kyugnsoo lets his hands fall away, keeping them carefully by his sides as Jongin fiddles with the delicate ribbons, tugging them out and then pulling to tighten the shirt closed. Hunching over to get a better look at the loops where the ribbons slip through, his fingers occasionally press into Kyungsoo’s chest. Their faces are almost aligned like this, Kyungsoo can even feel Jongin’s breath fanning across his face; it’s heady and he struggles to swallow without sounding like there’s a bowling ball lodged in his throat. 

Sometimes it just takes his breath away how gorgeous he is, and it’s torturously ironic how little Jongin knows it himself. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Jongin lowers himself down to the floor, resting on his haunches as he works on straightening out the ribbons passing through the loops on the lower half of the shirt.

‘ _Jesus Christ_ ,’ Kyungsoo groans mentally, determinedly keeping his thoughts on that one time he walked in on Chanyeol trying on a bra and thigh highs, to keep his head cool. 

“What’s going on here?” 

The moment is jarringly broken and they leap apart startled as Chanyeol’s smug voice breaks through the loaded silence. Jongin straightens up and fidgets with his hands, like he doesn’t know where to put them; Kyungsoo’s shirt is still undone by the collar and Chanyeol’s smirk is far too suggestive for Kyungsoo’s liking.

“Nothing,” Jongin mumbles, suddenly busying himself with his own costume, picking at a thread on the purposefully tattered sleeves.

Hastily twisting the ribbons into a tight bow around his neck, Kyungsoo wills the burning flush on his face away; not that it matters seeing as Jongin’s beet red cheeks and lowered eyes give everything away. Whatever there is to give away anyway, Kyungsoo muses.

“We were just getting ready,” he answers, pleased with how crisp and steady his voice comes out even when his heart feels like it’s going to impale itself on his ribs; “Come on, we’re going to be late. Jongin, don’t forget your cape.”

He sweeps past Chanyeol briskly, punching him hard in the shoulder as he snatches his scythe up from the umbrella stand before stepping out of the room. 

 

-

 

Baekhyun’s parents own a summer house just off the university campus and with Halloween just around the corner, of course, a giant, themed house party is the place to be. 

The place is already overflowing with people by the time they get there, plastic cups in everyone’s hands as the music blares loudly from somewhere inside. Chanyeol instantly disappears into the crowd and Kyungsoo gets separated from Jongin moments later when he’s jostled to the side. Shrugging, he snatches up a filled plastic cup for himself, scrunching his nose at the near pig-sty state the house is in already. He finds an empty chair by the wall, out of the way from stomping feet and contents himself with downing the contents of his cup, and nodding at people he recognizes when they stumble by.

Naturally, Chanyeol appoints himself to be in charge of firing things up at the party, stepping up onto a chair at one point, to elevate himself above everyone else and yells to get their attention.

“Alright, time to have some fun guys!”

Kyungsoo immediately tunes him out, choosing instead to scan the room for any more familiar faces. There’s an interesting array of costumes present, he notes with interest, snorting when Darth Vader and Hatsune Miku walk by hand in hand. He decides it’s better to focus on Freddie Kreuger nibbling on a marshmallow to his right than risk another glance over to where Naruto is furiously making out with Piccolo in his lap. 

“…for example, Kyungsoo and Jongin are together!”

Kyungsoo snaps back to attention, jerking his head towards Chanyeol’s voice so quickly he nearly gets whiplash. Chanyeol has this enormous shit-eating grin stretching wide on his face as he hops off the chair, pushing through the crowd towards Kyungsoo.

“Wait what-“

He barely has time to get his question out before Chanyeol appears right up in his face with a bewildered Jongin in tow, dragged by the wrist. 

“The rule is that pairs need to hold hands for the _whole_ duration of the game,” Chanyeol continues to instruct the throng of people staring at them attentively. Kyungsoo’s hand is suddenly yanked up and fitted against Jongin’s, their fingers bumping together and getting in the way for a moment before slipping smoothly through the grooves of each other’s hand. 

“Alright everyone, partner up!”

The room is filled with activity again as everyone searches for a person to pair up with, all pleasantly buzzed enough already to be enthusiastic.

“You just fucking made up that rule on the spot didn’t you,” Kyungsoo growls at Chanyeol, irritated when his grin only widens and he _pats_ Kyungsoo on the head. He then dives into the sea of people again, taking cover when Kyungsoo lunges at him; his movement is restricted, however, by Jongin anchoring his other hand. He’s gnawing on his lower lip, a habit of his when he’s feeling nervous and Kyungsoo is rudely reminded of the ball of butterflies squirming uncomfortably in his gut. 

They’ve been friends since Kyungsoo’s final year of high school when they met one day through Chanyeol, and they grew steadily closer, able to hang out more often still once Jongin applied to Kyungsoo’s university a year after Kyungsoo finished high school. He’s always had a soft spot for Jongin, his insides turning to molten with every passing day, the fondness growing irrevocably stronger; something Chanyeol likes to exploit. 

They’ve done physical contact before; Jongin is centered around touch, always needing to hold on to the people he’s familiar with as if it grounds him. But they’ve never done this, their fingers laced together and holding on tightly as they’re jostled around by the people in the room. It feels intimate, like the air between them has changed significantly, feeling more loaded yet it only confuses Kyungsoo even more because _he can’t tell._

He can’t tell what the signs are or even if there are any signs at all. He wonders sometimes, if Chanyeol knows something he doesn’t, but he absolutely refuses to give him the satisfaction of asking him. 

For all of Jongin’s affection throughout their friendship, he simply can’t tell at all. He can’t tell if Jongin drops his head on his shoulder during movie nights, snuggling into him sleepily, because it’s exclusively _Kyungsoo_ or because he’s just a touchy person. He’s clingy, always latching onto Kyungsoo’s arm or curling his fingers around Kyungsoo’s wrist when he’s around but then again, he’s clingy when he’s with Chanyeol, or Baekhyun too. 

Jongin is, ultimately, a quiet, shy guy. He retreats within himself from time to time even though he’s learned to be more open with the people he trusts. So he can’t tell if the flush on Jongin’s cheeks has anything to do with him or if it’s just because he’s generally shy and embarrassed in this particular situation. 

It’s like Kyungsoo’s stumbling, the ground falling away beneath his feet for every moment of confusion that has him questioning and doubting himself every step of the way.

So he stays quiet, as always. Every instance that Jongin’s actions have ever made these silent questions flare up and plague him to no end, unintentionally making a mess of his thoughts and emotions, he keeps quiet, merely responding back with the same affection he always has for Jongin. At the end of the day, they’re still close friends, even if Kyungsoo’s fondness extends farther than that. He values what they have now more than what could possibly make him lose it, he reasons.

Pushing the thoughts back into the far corners of his mind, he tugs at Jongin’s hand to get his attention and musters his best, default ‘Chanyeol did something again’ tone;

“So what are we playing exactly?” 

Jongin seems to visibly relax at Kyungsoo’s casual attitude;

“Some sort of horror-hide-and-seek or something, apparently,” he answers, looking around the room in search of Chanyeol. The oaf is bouncing excitedly, taking up the role of the seeker upon himself, it would seem. 

Kyungsoo nods, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics and ignores the way Jongin tries to wiggle his fingers discretely, slotting them in more comfortably.

“Alright everyone!” Chanyeol bellows above the din of the crowd, effectively silencing everyone.

“I’m gonna hit the lights and count to fifty,” he brandishes a flashlight, “and then I’m gonna start looking. Winners get to kick back while the losers clean the place up.”

That pulls a ripple of laughter out from the crowd even though Kyungsoo knows they all secretly want to win. The idea of cleaning the horrific mess of the apartment somewhere around two in the morning with a dizzy head and churning stomach filled with alcohol is entirely unappealing.

“Upstairs is off limits!” he yells right before he cuts the lights, leaving them all to flounder in pitch darkness, Chanyeol being the sole bearer of the only flashlight in the house. 

There is immediately a mad dash to snag the best spots to hide, people shoving and running, bumping into each other in fits of giggles.

Jongin tightens his grip on Kyungsoo’s hand determinedly and sets off running himself, dragging Kyungsoo behind him. 

Every hiding spot they try out seems to somehow already be occupied by people, narrowing their options significantly. Jongin huffs irately after the third taken table they’ve checked under, clearly frustrated. He gets pretty competitive during games, and it seems like they’re currently on the losing end. 

They’re running out of time though, Chanyeol’s voice counting down the seconds coming through clearly from the foot of the staircase where he’s stationed. 

Grunting, Kyungsoo yanks Jongin into another direction, stumbling through the darkness blindly until they reach the wall. He feels around for a moment before his fingers find the smooth material of the thick curtains. 

With only ten seconds left to go, Kyungsoo slips in behind the drapes, flattening himself against the wall and drags Jongin in next to him quickly. They fumble in the darkness, tipping over the hem of the curtains and their own feet. Kyungsoo hears a sharp hiss of pain behind him but he doesn’t dare move or breathe another word because Chanyeol is done counting, announcing that he’s about to start hunting people down. 

The windows leading to the balcony are locked but there’s a small gap between them and the curtains, just enough to pack them both in tightly in a single file, hiding their shoes and only showing a relatively small bump through the material with their bodies.

It’s not the best hiding place they could have found but at the very least there’s a faint ray of light filtering in from the streetlights outside. 

Kyungsoo can feel Jongin’s palm sweating against his own but he’s too distracted by how minty Jongin smells, warm where he’s pressed up against him. 

The sudden sound of approaching footsteps has Kyungso instinctively pulling Jongin closer, protectively pressing a hand into the small of his back so he doesn’t topple over.

Jongin’s breathing a little heavily and Kyungsoo looks up and, seeing how incredibly flushed Jongin’s face is, even with the dim lighting. It’s pretty stuffy behind the thick drapes, the heat almost palpable. The face paint is probably already melting off his skin.

“You okay?” he whispers as quietly as he can once the footsteps have faded away into the distance. He starts prying the fingers still tangled with Jongin’s out, wanting to check his forehead just in case but Jongin immediately holds on tighter and tugs his hand back down.

“Can’t let go or we’ll lose the game,” he mutters quietly, biting his lip as he cocks his head much like a puppy, listening for any sounds. 

It’s absolutely terrible how adorable he looks, even with painted blood all over his face, because all Kyungsoo can think about is pressing their lips together to see if Jongin’s are as pillow soft as they look. 

His attention is pulled away though by the sliver of light he spots seeping through the gap between the curtains and the floor. Holding his breath, he presses closer to Jongin, trying to make himself smaller and less obvious through the curtains. His heart is thundering in his chest, or maybe’s he’s actually feeling Jongin’s; either way, there’s no time to discern it before the curtains are ripped open with a triumphant ‘ _HA!_ ’ from Chanyeol.

Brandishing the flashlight in their faces, he coaxes them out, ushering them out and leading them to ‘the Loser Base’, as Chanyeol has dubbed the living room. 

The lights are on in here, making Kyungsoo squint at the sudden brightness while Jongin keeps his eyes closed altogether. There’s a handful of people inside already, nodding at them as they come in before busying themselves with the shots they’d been going through.

Sighing, resigned to cleaning duty later on, Kyungsoo slumps down on one of the couches, bouncing a little in his seat when Jongin collapses down next to him, leaning his head against the backrest cushions. They’ve let go of each other’s hands now that the game is over for them, even though Kyungsoo can still feel the phantom warmth against his palm. 

Jongin’s face is a mess, paint dripping down the side of his face mixed with his sweat, dripping down onto the collar of his shirt. Kyungsoo frowns. It shouldn’t look so thick and runny even with the sweat. Raking his eyes along Jongin’s face carefully, he jerks upright when he notices the gash on his forehead.

“Jongin, you’re bleeding!”

“Hmm?” Jongin looks confused, reaching up to brush the pads of his fingers along his forehead, wincing in pain when he presses on the open cut. “Crap.”

Kyungsoo kicks himself for not noticing before, even with the fake blood trails painted on his skin. He recalls the way Jongin has hissed in pain just before they snuck behind the curtains; there must have been a hook or a nail jutting out from the wall.

“Come on,” he says firmly, taking Jongin’s bloodstained hand into his own again and drags him up from couch with him. They’re enveloped in darkness once again once they step out of the room, but this time Kyungsoo makes sure Jongin’s pressed up close behind him, shielded as he leads them towards where he thinks the staircase to the next floor is. 

“I didn’t realize I’d sliced my head open when I nicked it on that nail,” he hears Jongin mumble behind him, sounding almost apologetic, like him getting hurt is something burdensome. It must certainly hurt considering the size of the gash and how profusely it still seems to be bleeding. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kyungsoo chides him, squeezing Jongin’s hand in gentle reprimanding as he leads him into the vacant bathroom. He flicks on the lights, sitting Jongin down on the closed toilet, and finally getting a proper look at the damage. He frowns in concern at the mess of red paint mingling with the actual blood. Jongin’s bangs are matted to his forehead untidily, the dark strands sticking around the wound.

“I wonder if there’s any medical stuff here,” he muses, turning to rummage through the cupboards. The search comes up fruitful, finding gauze pads and a bottle of antiseptic. It’ll have to do. 

Setting them down on the edge of the sink, he turns to Jongin and tilts his face up gently, much like he’d done while applying the paint on him hours earlier. 

The first press of antiseptic has Jongin yelping, gripping the rim on the toilet seat tightly. 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says apologetically, insides twisting in concern as he holds the gauze he’s using away till Jongin settles down. There’s still a trail of blood trickling down his face.

At Jongin’s nod, he dabs the wound again gently, trying to clean it up as quickly as he can through Jongin’s hisses of pain, tossing bloodstained gauze pads aside one after another. Jongin pales a bit from the sight of so much of his blood, though it’s probably from the pain too. 

“You might need stitches,” Kyungsoo says, cupping the back of Jongin’s head delicately to keep him steady, trying to press the wound shut.

“It’s not that bad,” Jongin mumbles, his voice is strained. It kind of is, though, because the gash won’t seem to stop bleeding, apparently deeper than it looks. Kyungsoo knows of Jongin’s aversion to hospitals though; it’ll only make him panic and struggle if he tries to take him there. 

No matter. He’s determined to stay here till the wound stops bleeding, even if he has to stand here pressing gauze pads to Jongin’s head all night. 

It takes a while but the bleeding finally stops. Jongin’s face is as pale as a sheet and Kyungsoo’s hand aches but the worst is over. He tosses everything into the bin after taping a square of gauze over the wound area, soaping his hands up well to scrub Jongin’s blood off his fingers. He turns to find Jongin’s trying to get up, swaying dizzily on his feet and nearly falling over.

“Careful!” Kyungsoo’s exclaims, steadying him and bearing his heavy weight, “You shouldn’t walk around for a while.”

He grabs a pile of towels off the rack and stacks them up like a cushion by the edge of the bathtub. 

“Sit down for a while and lean back,” he instructs, helping Jongin wobble his way into a safely seated position. Finally he plops down next to him on a pile of towels of his own. It’s almost two in the morning and he’s completely exhausted.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jongin murmurs beside him, his voice sincerely.

“Make sure you keep it clean,” Kyungsoo chooses to remind him instead. 

Jongin slides down against the bathtub, trying to get comfortable and Kyungsoo already feels himself nodding off. His eyelids are drooping when Jongin’s head suddenly drops on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck but Kyungsoo’s too sleepy and warm to object, choosing instead to press Jongin into him more securely so he doesn’t slip off and dozes off with his cheek pressed into the crown of Jongin’s head. 

 

-

 

“Oi! I hope you two are decent in there! I need to pee and the bathroom downstairs is occupied.”

Kyungsoo startles awake at the banging on the bathroom door and Baekhyun’s loud voice, blinking rapidly to bring his eyes into focus. The weight on his shoulder reminds him of Jongin, feeling the other stirring awake next to him. 

Groaning at the pain in his back from falling asleep while sitting upright, Kyungsoo stretches his cramped legs, about to stretch his arms when he notices Jongin’s fingers tangled with his. He swallows drily; they fell asleep holding hands? He wonders if he’s the one who started it. It’s too risky to wait and find out. 

Easing his fingers out from Jongin’s before he realizes, Kyungsoo shakes him awake gently, checking on the wound under the gauze as Jongin cracks his eyes open blearily. 

“C’mon,” Kyungsoo encourages softly, struggling to get to his feet before pulling Jongin up with him. He stumbles, most likely from cramped muscles and residual dizziness but Kyungsoo curls an arm around his waist in support and opens the bathroom door. 

 

-

 

Kyungsoo is fidgety, unable to focus on anything as he shifts with discomfort on his bed unable to settle down. Kicking his books and a laptop aside, he lets his head thunk back against the wall behind him, clising his eyes with a sigh. How frustrating.

“You okay?” 

Chanyeol has plucked his earphones out now, sitting up on his bed to look at kyungsoo.

“M’fine.”

“How’s Jongin doing?” 

“I dunno,” Kyungsoo mumurs, closing his eyes again, welcoming the black behind his eyelids. It’s only been a day since the party.

“You should go check on him.”

There’s no teasing lilt in his voice, no sly grin on his face this time. There’s only the smallest of encouraging smiles playing on his lips, his voice gentle, sensible the way it always is when he’s genuine and serious about something. It reminds Kyungsoo why they’re best friends.

“I should,” he echoes, throwing his legs over the edge of his bed and staring at his knees for a moment. He’s going to go check on him to see how his head is doing. He can do this. 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly, he pushes himself off the mattress and slips into his shoes.

 

Jongin’s dorm isn’t far off, only a block away and Kyungsoo enjoys the cool breeze that helps to clear his mind.

He doesn’t knock when he gets there. He’s never had to knock. Jongin’s roommate’s almost never there anyway.

He finds Jongin splayed out on his bed lazily as usual, holding up his phone in front of his face.

“Resting well, I see,” Kyungsoo chuckles when he nearly drops his phone, startled by his voice.

“Kyungsoo hyung!” Jongin beams at him brightly.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, eying the nasty bruise colouring the skin around the covered up wound. 

“Got a massive headache, feels like there’s a hammer in my skull,” he groans, sitting up as he presses the heels of his hand into his eyes. 

Kyungsoo chuckles, sitting down on the bed next to him. This is familiar, sharing space on the bed, be it to watch a movie on Kyungsoo’s laptop or to work on their assignments in each other’s company.

“Have you changed the dressing yet?”

Jongin looks up at him guiltily, the answer written all over his face. Sighing in exasperation, Kyungsoo gets to his feet and pulls out gauze and tape he’d stuffed in his jacket pocket, knowing full well that Jongin would forget. 

The brat grins at him gleefully, pleased at being taken care of. Kyungsoo makes quick work of changing the dressing, taping the gauze down neatly.

He’s not thinking when he does it. He doesn’t even know what comes over him but he brushes Jongin’s bangs aside and leans down to press his lips just beside the covered wound.

Shit.

He’s got some magnetic force over Kyungsoo because he can’t pull away, only travelling lower to press his lips onto the crest of Jongin’s cheekbone. 

_Shit_. 

“Hyung,” Jongin breathes, looking up at him with only the slightest furrow in his eyebrows and Kyungsoo struggles to read it. Jongin’s got a hand fisted in the front of Kyungsoo’s shirt, clinging but he’s not pushing him away. Instead he tugs, albeit hesitantly, but it’s a tug nonetheless, and Kyungsoo throws all caution to the wind because this _has_ to be the sign he’s been craving like it’s the only thing that will help with the heavy set weight wedged between his ribs. He leans in and presses their lips together, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes him in. 

Jongin kisses back, his mouth falling open eagerly with a low hum when Kyungsoo licks along the seam of his lips, licking his way inside. It’s like there’s an explosion inside his chest and he’s seeing fireworks behind his eyelids because _finally_. Jongin’s lips are, in fact, as soft as they look, moving smoothly against his own and he swears he’s never felt anything better than this. Curling his fingers around Jongin’s neck, Kyungsoo pulls him closer, angling his head to deepen the kiss, keening when Jongin sucks his lower lip in between his own and nibbles lightly. 

His lungs are burning, but Jongin curls his tongue, licking along the insides of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth and Kyungsoo’s losing his mind. 

He breaks away moments later though, panting and admiring Jongin red, swollen lips through half lidded eyes. 

He’s still bending a little awkwardly over Jongin, balancing himself with a hand around his neck and a knee fitted between Jongin’s. He’s taken by surprise though when Jongin suddenly falls back onto the mattress, curling his fingers around Kyungsoo’s wrist to pull him down on top of him.

Straddling his hips easily, Kyungsoo cups his face and leans back down to seal their mouths together again, kissing Jongin with vigour. 

He’s hot all over, his face flushed though he can tell Jongin’s face is hot too. He rolls his hips instinctively and Jongin breaks the kiss with a squeak, his eyes widening as he looks up at him startled. 

“Hyung I- uh,” he fumbles adorably for words, his face colouring even more than it already is, “I’m still a bit dizzy and everything kind of aches since the party, I just–”

He’s blushing so hard he might explode and Kyungsoo presses his lips to Jongin’s chin, silencing him as he noses up his jawline before pressing a tender kiss to his cheek; 

“Calm down, Jongin,” he chuckles, nuzzling into his skin, feeling more than a little giddy that he’s actually doing this, he can finally, _finally_ , understand exactly where he and his feelings really stand with Jongin. He can’t believe it’s taken so long.

“You never reacted whenever I was clearly making a move!” Jongin exclaims, and Kyungsoo realizes he’s been thinking aloud. He stares at him incredulously because there’s no way there was any clear indication of Jongin actually making a move. 

“I thought for sure you weren’t interested,” Jongin adds morosely. 

“ _What_ moves?” 

“Well, for one, I let you walk my kids!”

“ _That_ was a move?” Kyungsoo retorts incredulously. 

“Hey, that was _hard_ for me–"

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and cuts him off, swallowing the rest of his words on his tongue by kissing him insistently.

“You’re hopeless” he whispers fondly against his lips. Jongin cranes his neck up, stealing a quick kiss and then another, falling back against the bed with flushed cheeks and a beautiful smile. 

“Yet you’re still here,” he says, a softness in his voice as he presses a hand into the curve of Kyungsoo’s waist. His face mirrors the relief and elation Kyungsoo is feeling. 

“Just for another five minutes though; I’ve got class soon,” Kyungsoo sighs after peering at the digital clock on the nightstand.

Jongin’s face immediately falls, his bottom lip jutting out a little and he looks up at him with those devastatingly woeful eyes; it’s so _endearing_. Kyungsoo spares another minute to pepper Jongin’s face with kisses until he’s laughing, carefully steering clear of the wound area. 

“You should really get that checked out properly, you know,” he says, eyeing the bandage bruising skin.

“I’m fine, hyung,; you did enough checking out for me,” Jongin beams at him, far too happy about experiencing Kyungsoo’s basic first aid.

He ends up walking Kyungsoo to the door, the full five steps it takes to get there and flushes after pressing a chaste kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips before he leaves, still impossibly shy. 

He’s got the soppiest smile on his face when he gets to class right up until he’s got Chanyeol trapped in a headlock for springing a volley of innuendo-laden puns about his current good mood.

 

 

It’s like nothing’s changed except now he gets to push Jongin up against the door and kiss the breath out of his lungs before leaving for class every chance he gets. And Jongin likes to press kisses into his neck every other day while they’re studying, eventually abandoning their books so he can press Kyungsoo into the pillows and kiss every inch of skin he can find.

It’s like nothing’s changed except everything’s changed and Kyungsoo’s finally found his footing.


End file.
